


First. Last. Always.

by elyssblair



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
Genre: Character Death (With A Happy Ending), Other, Possible Pre-Slash (If You Want To See It That Way), Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyssblair/pseuds/elyssblair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A profound friendship in three kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First. Last. Always.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IncurableNecromantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurableNecromantic/gifts).



 

Preston B. Whitmore puffed his chest and descended the stairs, metaphorical first steps to his destiny.

He was in the heading into the bowels of the Lodge of The Royal Loyal Order of the Frightful Minotaur, Georgetown’s secret, elite archaeological fraternity. As the second youngest person ever invited to pledge, Preston felt pretty confident in his ability to solve the labyrinth and earn his initiation into the exclusive order. He moved quickly through the corridors, easily solving riddles and avoiding obvious traps on the way to center.

Of course, the youngest person ever to be invited to pledge was also in the maze, somewhere. That upstart, Thaddeus Thatch, who’d managed to beat him by a hair in every endeavor they’d both attempted since first setting foot on the Georgetown campus.

Not this time, however. Preston was determined to solve the secret of the Minotaur’s Labyrinth first.

That’s when he turned the corner and saw two things that made his heart pick up into harsh rhythm. To his right, the golden archway into the heart of the maze, where the final test waited.

And, in the corridor directly across from him, his nemesis.

Thatch froze when he caught sight of Preston, his eyes narrowing and his sparsely filled mustache twitching. Preston rolled his shoulder to loosen himself and glared back. Then, as one, like they’d both heard some non-existent starter’s pistol, both of them lunged into a mad sprint.

They hit the archway simultaneously, shoulders digging into each other as they wedge tight in the slightly too narrow opening. A moment of struggling and ungentlemanly cursing sent them tumbling into the small square room.

Behind them, an ominous rumble shook the floor and a wall slid into place over the archway, effectively trapping them. Together.

Preston brushed himself off, turning his back deliberately on Thatch and began to examine the art work on the wall. Behind him, Thatch harrumphed and marched to the opposite side of the room to do his own investigation.

Following the images of the bull, Ariadne, and Theseus, Preston searched in vain for any clue. He was beginning to worry he’d never figure it out until he spotted he ball of string, half hidden behind the Minotaur’s hoof. A thread unraveled along the bottom of the artwork and he hunched over, crab-walking to follow it around the room. He squinted at the tiny details and realized it concealed what looked like a mish-mash of cuneiform, runes and hieroglyphs.

He was concentrating so hard on trying to puzzle out the meaning, Preston completely forgot about Thatch’s existence until leaned closer to look a particularly obscured rune and their heads bonked.

“I say, I was here first. Go back to your own side of the mural,” Thatch adjusted his spectacles and glared.

“Wrong. _I_ was here first. Now get out of my way, so I can examine—” Preston cut himself off before he could give away he his discovery.

“The thread?” Thatch asked smugly. Preston glowered and remained silent. “It is clever but quite obvious after all.”

They continued to jostle each other as they each worked on their own to translate the inscrutable writing.

Half an hour later, Preston had figured out most of it.

_New worlds will open when enemies put aside pride and…_

The final glyph remained frustratingly inscrutable, however.

“I can’t quite make this last rune out,” Thatch admitted into the tense silent, the pinch of his expression making it clear he was reluctant to admit it. “Do you recognize it?”

Preston relaxed a little. The prodigal genius was having difficulty, as well. Suddenly feeling magnanimous, he shook his head.

“No. It seems like I should. It looks a little like…” he squinted and tilted his head. “But it can’t possibly be…”

They turned to face each. Thatch’s wide eyes and pallor made it clear that he’d come to the same conclusion as Preston. They both blurted it out the word at the same time.

“ _KISS.”_

Thatch ran his fingers over the image of thread and whispered, “ _New worlds will open when enemies put aside pride and kiss.”_

_“_ They can’t possibly mean for us to…” Preston blustered.

Thatch sighed, stood up and brushed off his clothes. “Do you have a better idea?”

Scowling, he pushed to his feet as well and admitted reluctantly, “No.”

“Well, then.” Thatch cleared his throat and shuffled closer.

Enough heat suffused Preston’s cheeks, he worried he’d burst into flames. But he was a Whitmore, a name synonymous with warriors and explorers and he shrank from no challenge. Stiffening his shoulders, he pursed his lips and tilted his face toward Thatch.

At the last second, though, Preston slammed his eyes shut.

Apparently, Thatch couldn’t look either, because only the corners of the mouths actually met.

It was the quickest, driest kiss in the history of kisses.

Then the floor rumbled under their feet and the grinding sound of the wall opening made them spring apart. Too late.

The entire membership of the order sprawled in various degrees of hilarity behind the now open door. Some laughing so hard, they were actually rolling around on the ground.

“Embrace,” the president managed to gasp out between guffaws. “The last rune was embrace.”

“You only needed to hug,” another member managed to wheeze. “But that was so much better.”

The president coughed a few times and managed to get hold of himself. He stepped between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “Congratulations to both of you. You are now officially part of the Lodge of The Royal Loyal Order of the Frightful Minotaur.”

Pride spread warmly through Preston and he glanced over at Thatch, who grinned back with no reservation.

#

The partnership in the Labyrinth had put an end to their rivalry and began a great and enduring friendship that would define them both. It wasn’t their last kiss, either. It became a bit of a thing between them. When they opened the tomb of the librarian of Alexandria to find a treasure trove of scrolls and maps never before imagined, there was a quick victory peck. And the drunken lip smack when during the celebration after they’d discovered the unknown Egyptian temple. And of course, the pay off for the bet, immortalized on film, when Thatch victoriously returned with the Shepherd’s Journal.

Decades later, every moment and adventure together was etched in Preston’s memory like a precious gift.

The second he’d heard of Thad’s quickly deteriorating conditioned, he’d hurried to the man’s bedside. Not caring that it was past midnight, he stormed the stairs like they were a mountain in need of conquering. He only slowed to a quiet tiptoe when he’d caught sight of the exhausted young Milo, passed out in an uncomfortable chair outside his grandfather’s room.

Preston sat for hours, remembering every adventure and quiet conversation while he watched his oldest, closest friend sleep. A clock struck four somewhere in the house and Thad’s eyes blinked open, only to be immediate filled with the darkness of overwhelming pain.

“Preston, you came.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, but filled with gratitude all the same.

“Of course, I came. Where else would I be when you’re lying about like a deadbeat.”

Thad’s laugh turned into a cough and Preston regretted trying to lighten the mood. Before he could apologize, Thad patted his hand and turned his head toward something wrapped in brown paper sitting on the writing desk.

“There’s a package for Milo. It’s the journal. Give it to him when you think he’s ready. I can’t finish what we started, but he will find Atlantis for you.”

“Don’t talk like that, Thad. You’re going to be fine. I’ve got one of the finest doctors in the world on their way. He’ll be here in the morning. As soon as you get your strength back, we’ll be on our way to the Lost Empire.”

Thad shook his head, a deep cough racking his body again, before he clutched at Preston’s fingers. “No, my friend. My time is up. There’ll be no last minute miracle for me. I’m depending you to see things through.”

Grief clawed at Preston, choking him with all the things he wasn’t ready to lose. He swallowed hard, ignoring the moisture blurring his vision and bent over Thad to murmur.

“Of course, my old friend. I’ll take care of everything.”

Preston pressed his mouth to Thad’s, just the corners brushing in a dry, quick kiss. His tears dripped onto his friend's cheek, and Thad raised a shaking hand, not to wipe it away but to press it into his skin.

“Don’t be sad, old friend,” he said with a tremulous smile. “Our adventures aren’t over. I’m just going ahead to scout out the best places to explore. We’ll be partners again, eventually.”

Then Thad’s eyes slid closed, the tight lines of pain smoothing out as he exhaled one last time before his chest went still.

Preston dashed away the tears, and snatched up the package. He would prove Thad right and restore his friend’s place in the annals of history. On the way out of the room, he patted the still sleeping Milo. He’d make sure the boy had every advantage, as well, when the time came.

#

The yoga wasn’t helping his old bones anymore and Preston lay on the lounge, lethargy sucking away the last of his energy and ambition. The pull of something greater tugged at his soul and he finally understood what Thad was feeling that last night. Time was counting down for him in an inevitable march and it was a relief.

He pulled the cord around his neck and pressed the tip of the crystal to his lips.

His work was done, his promises kept and now the next adventure was calling to him with tempting novelty of the unknown. Preston closed his eyes, letting his imagination and memories collide. Letting the lassitude and lethargy seep into him.

He had no idea how long he floated in the pleasant haze of daydreams, but a flash of blue light behind his eyelids startled him back into full consciousness.

When he sat up and looked around, however, he was no longer in his den. A meadow of green grass and bright flowers surrounded him.

Unnerved, Preston jumped to his feet.

With a sprightliness his body hadn’t possessed in years.

The ache and stiffness was gone and he stretched out his hand to find them smooth and strong. The gnarled, cramped fingers now flexed and grip with ease. He had no doubt, now, where he’d been transported to and happiness suffused him. The afterlife wasn’t so bad.

“Preston!”

He whirled at the sound of his name, shouted with gleeful abandon. A voice, an impossible voice he hadn’t heard in years, calling for him.

“Preston, over here,” Thad shouted again, scampering toward him at high speed. His hair was dark, his body spry in a way Preston barely remembered.

“Thad!”

He rushed forward, running full force until they crashed into each other, sending them both to the ground. They rolled over and over, laughing and clutching each other in pure joy of reunion. Eventually, their momentum slowed to stop with Thad leaning over him flashing a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“Welcome to paradise, Preston. What took you so long?”

“Well, there was a little matter of getting Miles to Atlantis to take care of first.”

Thad’s eyes went wide and hope-filled. “Did you do it? Did he make it?”

“Yes. We found Atlantis.”

“I knew you’d do it. Thank you,” Thad’s grin got impossibly wider. Then he leaned down, pressing his lips fully onto Preston’s, letting them linger longer than any of their kisses ever had.

When it was over, Thad jumped to his feet and offered a hand to help Preston up, as well.

“Come, on, Preston. There’s a Druid henge on the other side of the meadow you just have to see.”

Following on the wave of youthful enthusiasm, Preston followed along with a smile that might just permanent. Yes, indeed, paradise wasn’t so bad, at all.


End file.
